


Paradise That’s Trouble-Proof

by dotfic



Series: The Ketchup 'verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 19:05:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8025454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotfic/pseuds/dotfic
Summary: After a hunt, Dean shows Cas a lesser-known part of the bunker.





	Paradise That’s Trouble-Proof

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to inplayruns for the beta read. AU, part of the Ketchup ‘verse, which diverges from canon around mid-season 9, but follows canon somewhat. Inspired by this fanart by purgatoryjar: http://purgatoryjar.tumblr.com/post/143121413527/dean-and-cas-chilling-on-the-bunkers-roof-at

It took them all night to track down and burn the remains of one Peter Edwardson III, with Cas keeping the ghost distracted and contained while Sam and Dean dug as fast as they could at the unmarked grave on the grounds of the estate. Cas had handled himself pretty well, Dean thought, almost like he’d been in the life for years. Although the unusual edge and breathlessness to Cas’s voice over the speaker of Sam’s iPhone sounded as if maybe he’d been a little rattled.

“Just hang in there, Cas, just a little longer,” Dean had called out, quickly jamming the shovel deeper into the dirt and telling himself that Cas could handle it.

But mostly, Dean would categorize that night as one of their better hunts—especially since none of them was injured, not even a bump or bruise, which was like a goddamned miracle these days.

They hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before, so Dean pulled the Impala into the all-night drive-thru burger place while Sam dozed in the seat next to him and Cas kept yawning in the back. Cas needing sleep was a relatively new thing. Not all of that weird battery pack of his grace was gone, but it was depleted (and Dean wouldn’t ever stop thinking about how). 

“Hey.” Dean jabbed his finger into Sam’s ribs, and Sam startled awake. “What do you want?”

“What time is it?” Sam rubbed his hand over his face.

“Four-twelve A.M.,” Cas said, as if he found the hour insulting.

“Bacon, egg, and cheese,” Sam said.

“Cheeseburger,” Dean said. He glanced at Cas in the rearview mirror and Cas nodded. “Make it two. And two orders of fries.”

“Hash browns,” Sam mumbled, eyes closed again.

“And hash browns.”

“And a cup of coffee, black, no sugar,” Cas said, his voice carrying a bit of an imposing scratch to it, as if coffee were a decree of God.

Among other many things Dean had discovered about Cas lately, he wasn’t a morning person, and he seemed to be a coffee junkie.

“And a cup of coffee, black, no sugar,” Dean repeated into the speaker, over the rumble of the Impala’s idling engine. He rubbed his eyes with his thumbs. His shoulders and lower back ached from the digging and he should sleep soon, but felt way too keyed up from the hunt still.

“Freaks, eating burgers for breakfast,” Sam mumbled, as the window attendant handed across the bags of food.

When they got home, the bunker was dark and quiet, Kevin probably asleep in his room, although he’d left a mess of papers and his laptop open on a library table. Sam shoved half his egg sandwich into his mouth at once and took his hash browns sleepily off to his room. 

“‘Night, nerd,” Dean called after him.

“‘Night, freak,” Sam shouted back.

Dean grinned.

Cas stood hesitantly at the foot of the entry stairs, holding the bag with the cheeseburgers and fries in one hand, coffee cup in the other. 

“You want to eat in the kitchen?” Cas gestured with the bag.

But Dean still wasn’t tired and the reaper they’d spotted on the way out to the estate, hovering by a highway sign, left him jumpy. They weren’t any closer to figuring out why those creepers kept showing up anywhere Dean was, watching him, but after what he did to Death, well — Dean was pretty sure it had something to do with that. 

“Come with me,” Dean said, grabbing the bag from Cas.

The smell of the burgers and fries made Dean’s stomach gurgle as he led Cas through the dimmed bunker, a long twisting path down one long corridor, then another, up a flight of stairs lit only by a red emergency bulb, until they got to a metal ladder. Dean held the bag in his teeth and began to climb.

He felt the ladder quiver as Cas’s weight joined him. Up and up they went, until they reached a metal hatch. Dean opened it to a rush of pre-dawn cool air, a glimpse of sky. 

Dean tossed the bag out onto the roof, then pulled himself out through the hatch, which was covered in markings.

“Well?” he said, as Cas joined him.

Cas’s head tilted back so he could look up at the last of the fading stars. “I had no idea this was up here.”

“We never use it much. We keep it warded but it’s still a potential security breach. Good to know there’s an extra escape route, I guess.” Dean stared at the profile of Cas’s face, against the hint of light starting in the still-darkened sky. 

He stared too long, because Cas turned, caught him at it, and his lips twitched into a smile. He reached out and caught Dean’s hand, squeezing it once, firmly. “I like it up here.”

Then he let go, and Dean sat down on the rough surface of the roof. He rummaged in the bag for ketchup as he held the other cheeseburger out to Cas, who settled near him. Cas took the burger, carefully unwrapping it.

They ate without talking, watching the light increase, bridge lights in the distance. Cas finished his burger first, and then lay back, coffee within easy reach, one hand tucked behind his head. His face softened to wonder as he stared up at the sky, and Dean’s chest warmed.

Dean leaned down, bracing one hand on the other side of Cas’s body, the roughness of the bunker’s rooftop against his palm. He moved slow, taking his time as he lowered his head and brushed his lips against Cas’s.

With a small contented sigh, Cas reached up and threaded his fingers into Dean’s hair, pressing upward to strengthen the kiss. He smelled of coffee.

They stayed like that for a while, noses occasionally bumping, lips and tongues exploring, spots of heat in the chilly pre-dawn air.

Then Dean lay back beside Cas on the roof. Their shoulders touched, and Cas twined his fingers into Dean’s.

Together, they watched the dark fade, and the sky grow lighter.

 

~title by The Drifters


End file.
